


you're not my homeland anymore

by buc_eebarnes



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Bars and Pubs, Canon Compliant, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Past Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Past Relationship(s), Post-Break Up, Post-Time Skip, light manga spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25606954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buc_eebarnes/pseuds/buc_eebarnes
Summary: “He’d been my partner for so long,” Shouyou continues, eyes straying again to the counter. “My rival. My best friend. My boyfriend. He was everything I could have asked for and more.” He swallows the lump in his throat, eyeing the way Kageyama rubs his thumb over Kindaichi’s knuckles. The scene is both ten steps and a million miles away from where Shouyou sits. He wants to claw his heart out of his chest to stop the ache gnawing at it. “And it’s been two years. I thought we were gonna make it forever.”
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Kageyama Tobio/Kindaichi Yuutarou
Comments: 10
Kudos: 34





	you're not my homeland anymore

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Taylor Swift's song [exile (feat. bon iver)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=osdoLjUNFnA). I recommend this song to anyone, mostly because it's been on repeat for me for days now, and also because it's a damn good song to listen to.
> 
> This was meant to be a short 800-900 word drabble. And now it's 2.4k. _Bruh._
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely [MajesticAnna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajesticAnna/pseuds/MajesticAnna).

Shouyou hasn’t looked up from his beer in a long time.

His seniors were considerate, sensing the tension immediately, and kindly suggested moving to another bar, one that does not have his ex-boyfriend and his ex-boyfriend’s current partner sitting at the counter, eyes trained on each other as if they were the only two people who existed in the world.

Shouyou sniffs and throws the last of his beer back, reaching for the pitcher to refill his glass before chugging it in one go.

What was the point of coming out here again?

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. The carbonation of the beer fizzes down his throat, all the way to his stomach, spreading warmth throughout, and his head feels stuffed with cotton, the lively conversations of the bar around him dulled and existing only in the back of his mind.

Ah. That’s right. Nishinoya had invited him and the rest of the Karasuno alumni out, mostly because he’d just come back from god-knows-where, and that he had a lot of souvenirs to give out to everyone. The only ones who could answer the call were Shouyou and Tanaka, the former because he genuinely missed Nishinoya and wanted to catch up with him, the latter because he had the day off. Everyone else was busy or out of town, and Shouyou thinks it might’ve been a miracle to see his senior at least once before he was inundated back into volleyball practice for the upcoming season.

He’s not so sure about it being a miracle now.

Like he said, his seniors were considerate, asking him again if he wanted to leave, eyes fluttering nervously between Shouyou and the bar.

If Shouyou were a better man, he’d say yes, walk out of that bar with Nishinoya and Tanaka, pretend he had never seen anything, and move on with his life.

But Shouyou isn’t a better man. Shouyou is apparently a masochist, because he can’t even bring himself to move at the sight of Kageyama smiling softly at Kindaichi (and isn’t that a surprise?), the two of them facing each other on their respective barstools, their legs tangled together and shoulders hunched over each other, hands linked on the counter and on their laps. Kindaichi says something that makes Kageyama laugh, and Shouyou knows it’s his fond one, because Kageyama’s eyes close and his grin widens, nostrils flaring slightly at the huff of air he releases.

Shouyou feels sick.

He tears his gaze away from them, not realizing that he’d looked up once again, and reaches for the pitcher. He frowns at how much is left, then pours the rest into his glass. 

“Oi, Hinata,” Tanaka calls from across him, brows furrowed. “Ease up on the beer a bit. You don’t look so good.”

“Oh?” he mutters, burping. Maybe he’s had too much to drink. He thinks this is his fourth glass, and his alcohol tolerance is very low.

He doesn’t realize he’s swaying in his spot until Nishinoya reaches out a hand and steadies his shoulder.

“Shouyou, I think we should take you home.”

He vehemently shakes his head, and _wow,_ isn’t that a mistake.

“’M fine, Noya-san. I’ll be fine if I just. Don’t look up.”

He thinks his seniors may have exchanged looks.

“Listen, we can go somewhere else for you to sober up,” Tanaka nudges Shouyou’s glass away from him. Shouyou whines, tries to reach for it. Tanaka grabs it and holds it high above his head, and Shouyou pouts, looking down at the table. “We’re here to celebrate Noya-san coming home for a bit. We can’t do that if you’re moping.”

“Oi, Ryuu—”

“I can only imagine how hard it is right now,” Tanaka steamrolls, and Shouyou rolls his head to look up at him properly, “but it’s been two years.”

“Yeah,” Shouyou interrupts, voice uncharacteristically steely. “It’s been two years.”

Tanaka looks taken aback.

“He’d been my partner for so long,” Shouyou continues, eyes straying again to the counter. “My rival. My best friend. My boyfriend. He was everything I could have asked for and more.” He swallows the lump in his throat, eyeing the way Kageyama rubs his thumb over Kindaichi’s knuckles. The scene is both ten steps and a million miles away from where Shouyou sits. He wants to claw his heart out of his chest to stop the ache gnawing at it. “And it’s been two years. I thought we were gonna make it forever.”

A tense silence settles over the booth, and Tanaka casts his eyes downward. Shouyou sighs, smothering a hand over his face. “Sorry, Tanaka-san. I don’t know why this shit is coming out right now.”

His senior waves a hand, a small smile on his face. “Like I said, I can only imagine.”

Shouyou heaves another sigh and lolls his head to Nishinoya, who’s studying him carefully. “Noya-san, I have to pee.”

He continues studying him for a moment longer, then acquiesces his request and shifts out of the booth to make room for Shouyou. Once Shouyou is out, he stretches his arms above his head, then turns to the group. “We can go to a different bar after this, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tanaka grumbles, “but if you throw up on the way there, I’m driving you home.” 

Shouyou shrugs and staggers to the restrooms, which is fortunately not by the counter. He wonders if Kageyama even noticed him—

He stops that train of thought. He just wants to get in and out and forget that the past hour ever happened.

He’s washing his hands when the door opens and he hears a gruff “oh” reverberate through the room. When he looks up at the mirror, he freezes, his stomach dropping at the sight of Kindaichi standing in the doorway. 

Their eyes lock for what feels like eons for Shouyou, then Kindaichi breaks the spell and walks further into the restroom.

It’s silent except for the stream of water from the faucet Shouyou left on.

“Uh...is that you, Hinata? Karasuno’s number ten?” Kindaichi shifts uneasily and avoids Shouyou’s gaze. “It’s been a while.”

Shouyou feels irritation zing up his spine. He can’t breathe for a moment, face flushed and nose tingling with anger. It _has_ been a while, hasn’t it? He hasn’t seen Kindaichi in a good two or three years. He doesn’t know what he’s been up to, and he didn’t really reconnect with anyone from Aoba Johsai except for Oikawa (even then, that was a fluke). Seeing Kindaichi now, though, in this dimly lit restroom, knowing that he’s now with Kageyama, someone Kindaichi didn’t get along with for _years_ because they just didn’t _understand_ each other, sparks some kind of rage inside Shouyou. It starts at the base of his throat and spreads and leeches onto his shoulders and chest. He thinks he might be shaking, and he doesn’t know what kind of face he has on now.

“Yeah,” he finally says after a while, looking down at his pruning hands. He tries unclenching his jaw without avail as he turns off the tap and sticks his hands under the dryer.

What the hell. He lets out a shaky exhale, closing his eyes. He feels his pulse thundering in his ears, and he tries to relax his shoulders. _For fuck’s sake,_ he tells himself, _do_ not _lose your cool in the goddamn restroom._

It’s not Kindaichi’s fault that Shouyou and Kageyama’s relationship is the way it is right now. It’s not Kindaichi’s fault that Kageyama didn’t tell Shouyou his plans about the V-League, or that Shouyou didn’t tell Kageyama that he was going to Brazil. It’s not Kindaichi’s fault that Kageyama broke things off with him, insisting that it's better for the two of them to focus on themselves as they're training. It’s not Kindaichi’s fault that Shouyou begged Kageyama to take him back, to plead that they could try to make it work. It’s not Kindaichi’s fault that Kageyama left Shouyou to pack his bags alone, his first stopover flight in less than twelve hours. It’s not Kindaichi’s fault that they didn’t talk to each other the entire time they were on opposite sides of the world. And it’s _definitely_ not Kindaichi’s fault that Shouyou is currently feeling like the heavens have come crashing down on him as soon as Shouyou saw Kageyama with someone else.

But _god,_ does it hurt.

The restroom feels too stuffy for Shouyou now, so he removes his hands from under the dryer, hands still damp, and motions to get the fuck out of there as soon as he can.

“Um...you’re the new member of the Black Jackals now, right?”

Shouyou, one elbow jutted out on the swinging door, stops in his tracks and suppresses a sigh. He steels himself to throw his best approximation of a close-toothed smile at him from over his shoulder. “Yeah. Opposite hitter.”

Kindaichi stuffs his hands in his pockets, not looking up. “Ah. Well. The first game of the season is with the Adlers, right?”

Shouyou clenches his fists at the mention of Kageyama’s team, his body wound tight like a string. “...Yeah.”

The other man nods slowly. “I hope you do your best.”

“Thanks, Kindaichi.” Shouyou feels his sorry excuse for a smile drop, and he books it out of the restroom.

He maneuvers his way around the tables filled with people who are too busy laughing and having fun and _not at all_ suffering through a million and one clouding emotions like he is and trudges back to the booth where Nishinoya and Tanaka converse raucously. When they see him pull up, they stop short, smiles falling from their faces.

“Can we go now? Like _right now?”_ he stumbles in his haste to reach over Nishinoya and grab his jacket, but his senior grasps his arms and rights him up.

Nishinoya looks at him in bewilderment. “What the hell happened?”

“Yeah, what’d that restroom do to you?” Tanaka asks, but he slips his beanie on regardless and slides his way out of the booth.

Shouyou shakes his head, shrugging his jacket on with great difficulty. “Nothing.” The alcohol has muddled his motor skills, so they’re not completely back yet, and he huffs in frustration as he finally slots his arm into one sleeve. Fucking hell. “Just wanna leave.”

He makes the mistake of turning around as he’s flailing, because now, he’s got an eyeful of Kageyama staring in his direction—

Wait.

Shouyou stills his movements.

Kageyama? Looking in his direction?

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Nishinoya stop beside him and mutter an “oh shit”.

So he’s definitely looking at them, then.

Shouyou, because he is a self-proclaimed masochist, takes in his fill and observes Kageyama in the flesh. It’s the first time he’s seen him in person since they broke up, and the TV screens don’t do him justice (they never have). He’s always appeared like a god among men, blessed with a height that towered over others and strong, sharp features that all of the girls (and some guys) fawned over in the three years he spent in Karasuno and wherever else he went. The way he plays on the court is graceful, backed by the years of training and hard work he drilled into himself in order to be the best.

Remorse curls in Shouyou’s gut. Everything he wants is right there, sitting pretty on that barstool. In the dim light, Shouyou can see how those deep blue eyes pierce him, assessing him, as it always has, ever since that match in middle school. He looks good, broader, softer around the eyes, hair parted down the middle instead of his usual fringe. He’s absolutely gorgeous and Shouyou aches to have him in his arms once again. His heart is gripped tight with a cold vice, barring him from moving, and it’s all he could do to not cross the distance between him and his former partner.

Kageyama’s eyes are wide, his mouth parted open, and he motions to get up, one foot off the barstool and a hand perched on the counter. The other reaches out slightly, as if he was reaching for Shouyou.

All of a sudden, the spell is broken—Kindaichi rounds the corner and stops next to Kageyama, and their staring contest ends, with the latter turning to the former with a shaky smile, his outstretched hand retracting to grasp the one at Kindaichi’s side.

That’s enough to make Shouyou turn his back to the scene, slipping his other arm into the sleeve of his jacket, and he shoulders his way to the back exit, where Tanaka and Nishinoya hurriedly follow along.

Once he steps out into the muggy air, he puts his hands on his hips and takes a shaky breath.

“Shouyou,” Nishinoya says in a softer tone. “Do you want to go home?”

Shouyou breathes deeply, letting himself get bombarded by the late night atmosphere. He still aches, yearns, pines for Kageyama and he’s planning on drinking all of that away before afternoon practice begins tomorrow. The last thing he wants is to be home thinking about Kageyama and how he isn’t Shouyou’s anymore.

“Where’s the next bar?”

When he doesn’t hear a response, he whirls to face his seniors expectantly, and Tanaka looks uneasy.

“Tanaka-san,” Shouyou tries again, “can we please go to the next one? We did say we were supposed to celebrate Noya-san coming back.”

His senior’s eyebrows are furrowed, and he glances down at Nishinoya, who shakes his head. Shouyou doesn’t know if it’s in rejection. He doesn’t know which answer would be better for him.

“If I remember correctly, there’s an izakaya that’s open until 1 AM a few blocks from here,” Nishinoya says eventually. “We can walk there, let you sober up a bit.”

Shouyou nods, grateful. As they start their trek, Nishinoya talks about the time he caught a marlin in Italy and how it was _nearly_ as tall as he was, and that he plans on going back to catch an even _bigger_ marlin to one-up this cocky teenager he met on one of the houseboats docked on the pier. His voice gets animated the further into the story he goes. Tanaka oohs and ahhs in all the appropriate places, and Shouyou does his best to look attentive. He pushes all thoughts of the last bar from his mind, resolute in enjoying his time with two people he’s missed dearly.

Shouyou tries not to mull over the fact that Kageyama didn’t stop him from walking out of the door, and instead wills himself to walk faster to the izakaya, his body and heart heavy with exhaustion and yearning.

**Author's Note:**

> come hang out with me on my [tumblr](https://buc-eebarnes.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/buc_eebarnes), i'll cry about kagehina forever


End file.
